


A Familiar Taste of Poison

by fairxv



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Graphic Violence, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25555924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairxv/pseuds/fairxv
Summary: You're well aware that Hisoka's loyalties are fickle at best, and that you're no exception.
Relationships: Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	A Familiar Taste of Poison

A long time ago, you thought yourself lucky. Of all the people Hisoka Morrow had challenged in the world, of all the people he’d met, he’d somehow chosen you. Whether this was because he found you attractive physically, or for some alternative reason he’d yet to imply, you couldn’t tell. He liked to keep his intentions hidden, always keeping you balanced precariously on an invisible edge. He favored mind-games like that too, always assuring that he was the one in power, even when he wasn’t around. He’d go missing for months at a time, crawling back into your apartment, often in the dead of night, covered in battle scars and reeking of blood. Always, you thought, always reminding you that he was dangerous. It was always Troupe business, or simply, him not being able to stay in one place too long. As soon as he’d challenged every powerful fighter in the area, he was gone.

You wondered if he would continue coming around even after you moved. You were set to move a few hours away in the next few weeks, and you wondered if, up until now, your home was only a pit-stop on the way to Heaven’s Arena for Hisoka. He’d spend weeks at your apartment instead of a hotel, preferring to ‘annoy you’ as he put it. You’d put in a million ways in order to convince yourself that he liked you more than he put on, but truthfully, you doubted Hisoka as capable of loving anyone. The closest thing he could get to it was perhaps what it was now, occasional residence, but even then. He traveled everywhere, and Hisoka was fickle at best. There was no telling if he had other girls, or boys, that he visited outside of you. For all you knew, you were nothing more than a pit-stop for him.

And still, your heart beats rapidly, excited at the prospect of him coming through. Perhaps, it’s because you’ve become acquainted with his presence. It’s like when he’s there, it’s all real. Without him, life is a dreadful dream you can’t wake from. It’s horrible, coming to rely on him like this when he doesn’t even have a reliable cellphone for you to contact him when he’s away. He says it’s for your safety but you secretly think it’s because he just doesn’t see the need. He’ll come and ago as he pleases, and every so often, you may receive a phone call from an unknown number, and hear his smooth voice call to you over the receiver.

It’s been several months since you last saw him.

Several months without word. You were beginning to wonder if he’d finally been killed by a stronger opinion. Perhaps the leader of the Troupe had found him out, figured he was up to no good after all, or he’d finally met his match. Every time he was gone so long, you always wondered if he’d finally been killed after all, but each time, he’d saunter into your room as if he owned the room, invite himself to dinner as he usually did. You were in the habit of making more food than you could eat now, always secretly anticipating his surprise arrival.

You wished he’d send some word that he was coming, but doing so was never Hisoka’s intention. If he wasn’t surprising you, what was the point? He craved the part of you that was terrified, if even for a tiny second. It made coming worth it. He’d told you this once, told you of the effect it had on him, feeling your terror slip away into excitement. It was unnerving, knowing that he so casually insisted on scaring you every visit, instead of announcing his arrival. Maybe this would always be Hisoka’s way of doing this, for as long as he deemed you worthy of his attention.

But when would that end, and when would you finally realize that he wasn’t going to come back? The thought came to your mind every time he left, that it may be the last time. Though he would always reassure you that he would return, he never specified when. You couldn’t count the number of nights you’d lost sleep over him, wondering when he’d come back. Staying up late, sitting in the living room, feeling the loneliness creep into your soul, into every available crevice.

It was a loneliness you couldn’t quite explain, the disappointment that came when you realized that he wasn’t coming. The way you’d shuffle back to your bedroom, trying to fight the onslaught of tears that came with missing him late at night. It’d been a mistake, even getting involved with him in the first place. You’d known he was dangerous, could feel the bloodlust on him, saw it in the way he smirked, and sized you up. This, you were sure, would be the death of you. Yet, for all he was, for every deadly smile and drop of blood he spilled, for all of his malicious intents and trouble-seeking tendencies, you found yourself irrevocably, entirely in love with him. You felt safe beside him, strangely enough. It was a lamb feeling secure beside a tiger, knowing that another predator wouldn’t dare approach, seemingly oblivious to the one beside them.

You knew your feelings were troublesome, problematic at best. All of your friends had chosen to steer clear when they’d realized that Hisoka’s residence was not a one-time thing, asking from a distance if you were okay. They’d reasoned that something had to be wrong with you, he was messing with your head, performing some nen-exercise that left you incapable of fighting back, trapped, helpless. You were helpless to him, you reasoned, but not by his own doing. Hisoka never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. If you told him to leave and never come back, then he wouldn’t. He’d leave your life just like that, never crossing paths with you again unless you permit it.

It was toxic, for sure. You weren’t oblivious enough to pretend that it was anything less. But you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. He was addictive, both everything you wanted and hated wrapped up in one. He’d return with sweet words and caresses, giving every reason why he’d stayed away so long, wrap you up in your arms and grant you release from the world for a few days. There’d been a time you fought against him, sparred with him even. He liked a good fight, and you still foolishly believed that you could somehow get away from him. He liked to give you that, position it so you could make a getaway if you wanted, even if he had no real intentions of letting go.

As you walked into your kitchen, you pondered the idea of what would have come of you, had you run away when he first approached you at the bar. Back then, you’d just thought him to be charming, if not a little odd. You’d never have guessed that he was a member of the Phantom Troupe, that he killed without remorse, craved a good fight, even if it resulted in death. You’d invited him back to your apartment and shared the night with him, encased in his arms, feeling his lips on every inch of your body. It’d felt like heaven, but really, you’d fallen into hell without realizing it.

The TV in the apartment quietly played a news story for the day, discussing the upcoming fights in Heaven’s Arena. You waited, quietly, to hear his name pop up as an upcoming contender, staring at the pot of boiling water. You got back late that evening and weren’t feeling anything big for dinner. You’d poured a handful of noodles into the pot, impatiently awaiting them to go soft so you could eat and go to bed. As you stirred them around, you heard the door handle rattle behind you.

The sound makes you gasp, dropping the spoon into the pot as you turn, the door opening in front of you. Every nerve in your body goes haywire, your heart beating out of your chest, the only sound you can hear in your ears as red hair invades your vision. Everything else in the apartment fades into the background, he’s all you can see. Hisoka – standing before you with that signature grin, wearing a sleeveless white cropped shirt, card symbols embroidered in stark black across the front, with matching white pants. He’d ditched his heels for once, opting for a pair of salmon-colored flats. Still, even without his usual heels, he was tall, quietly shutting the door behind you.

“Hisoka…”

It comes out a whisper, riddled with disbelief that he’s finally here, finally in front of you.

You’d dreamed of his homecoming for months now, waking up disappointed and alone every time. Was this just another one of those? Were you destined to wake up in your bed, disappointed?

“You seem so surprised,” He purrs, sauntering towards you.

Your back presses against the counter as he corners you, reaching out to take your hips in his large hands. He pulls you to him, flush against his body. He’s warm, unlike your dream version. Your hands wrap around his forearms, feeling the blood course through his veins. He’s real – so real, and standing before you, grinning, clearly satisfied by the hold he has on you. Hisoka seems to admire you for a second before his hand drifts up to the back of your neck. The hold is almost intimate but brims with possession. Even as his thumb reaches out to run over your ears, you’re aware that he could easily kill you like this, so vulnerable, in awe of his presence.

But maybe, you start to think, staring at him, maybe you’d be okay with dying this way, in the arms of someone you loved. Even if Hisoka was wicked, in every sense possible, you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him and that somehow, he made you feel safe in ways no one else could.

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” You say finally, tears coming to your eyes.  
“I’ll always be back,” He says, “how foolish of you, to assume that I would simply abandon my favorite toy~”

You know deep down you should be upset with him calling you a toy, but right now you can only focus on him. Because he’s here, finally.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” He sighs, “I’m starved.”  
“I was just cooking dinner,” You say softly, “It won’t be much longer.”

Hisoka chuckles, and you see the light in his eyes dim, mischief taking over as you failed to realize what he’d meant by starved. Realization dawns on you, heat flaring to your cheeks as you feel his nails press to your waist, bringing you impossibly closer so that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. The hand that was once on your neck travels up to your chin, holding firmly, but not enough to hurt you. At least, not badly.

“We both know that isn’t what I need to quench my appetite, darling, ~”

He doesn’t want for you to reply, only takes you by the hand, gently leading you away towards the bedroom, the pasta water boiling over on the stove. The low sizzle pulls you from the trance Hisoka holds you in, and you pause. Everything goes in slow motion then, the way he turns back to look at you, just over his shoulder.

“Wait-“  
“What is it? You know not to keep me waiting.”

Yes, you do, but you have to, just this once. You have so much to ask him, so many questions about where he’s been, where you stand with him. He’s probably on his way to Heaven’s Arena, and so your home truly is just a pit-stop for him. This thought rattles around in your mind, a painful reality you’ve carefully avoided until now. You’d been good about carefully packaging your discomfort about the situation into a neat ball to be dealt with later. But life with Hisoka is so fleeting, and once he leaves, there’s no guarantee that he’ll be back. This conversation, the very one you’ve avoided until now, is begging to be released.

“I’m not just a pit stop right,” You dare to ask, voice trembling, afraid of the answer, “on the way to Heaven’s Arena?”

Hisoka’s eyebrows raise in surprise for a moment, and so do yours. You’ve never seen Hisoka surprised or caught off guard for that matter. He’s always so collected, especially around you. For once, it’s your words that hold the power. The surprise, much like the man, is fleeting, however, and his expression reverts back to the neutral one of mischief.

“Never,” Hisoka says, smiling, just gently in that way that makes you melt every time, “there are, after all, plenty of other places I could be right now.”

You suppose he’s right but isn’t exactly a direct answer to your question. Somehow, even knowing that he chooses you, isn’t enough to shake the feeling of discomfort that has begun to build in the months of his absence.

“This isn’t just…”

You try to find the words, your tongue abruptly heavy in your mouth, refusing to form vowels.

“Darling, you think too much,” Hisoka purrs, tugging your arm, tugging you closer to where he stands.  
“You’re right,” You relent.

Hisoka grins, and so you follow him, obediently. You’ll always follow, you think, the thought echoing in the back of your mind. You’ll always relent, always bow to Hisoka’s whims. If he told you the way to win his love was jumping out of the building, perhaps you’d believe him. You know you would if he promised to go with you.


End file.
